


The Ghosts of my Past

by that_one_kid



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Clara's a good kid, Could be an AU or canon, F/F, I am not entirely sure what happened, So yeah, Sorry about the strange character tags, Spoilers, plot twist ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 12:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2812760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_one_kid/pseuds/that_one_kid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara is giving out food to the poor and elderly. She meets someone, and they tell her about the ghosts of their past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghosts of my Past

The sign outside simply reads "Retirement home." Our truck idles in front, the back full of food baskets for those elderly who could use the extra food this holiday season. I stoop, picking up the bags and the form listing the room number and name.  
I knock on the door, shifting the weight of the heavily laden bags uncomfortably. After a second, I hear footsteps approaching. I give up my battle, resting the bags on the floor. The door opens a crack.  
"Yes, who is it?" Her voice is high and thin, grown reedy with age.  
"Food basket delivery," I respond, hefting the bags. "Do you want me to put these inside somewhere?"  
"Yes, how nice of you." She pulls the door open fully and waves me inside. I stagger into the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter where she pointed.  
The room is small, but the bright light washing in through it from the window makes it seem larger. The room has a few faded chairs, and a photo album out on the table.  
"Would you like to see them?" I nod, cautiously. Instead of picking up the album, though, like I expected, she gently grasps my shoulder. I gasp. The world seems to slide in and out of focus, and then I can see again. There is a group of women standing in the corner and chatting animatedly. I recognize many of the faces as what the lady must have looked like twenty, thirty, years ago. Something hits my leg, and three small children go sprinting by.  
"I'm the one in the white petticoat." The woman states proudly, and I respond automatically.  
"You look very pretty." I said. All of the children are wearing white petticoats. "Um, how are you-" I broke off, staring at the fifty year old version of the lady sitting on the couch. She was leaned up against another woman, about the same age, giggling at the other lady's story. "Is that- is that your wife?" The lady beamed.  
"Yes, the day we officially married." If I focused my eyes, I could make out hundreds of other people, faded almost into imperceptibility.  
"How are you doing this?" I asked, tearing my eyes away from the past.  
"They are my past. I carry them with me. Someday, you will be old, and you will have ghosts too." Then the other people slowly faded away. I was left alone in the room with the lady.  
"What- I mean- I'm Clara. Clara Oswin Oswald." I thrust my hand out towards her and she shook it. Her grip was firm, her hand warm and wrinkly.  
"So am I," she said, and gave me a slow wink. "Have a nice day."  
In the hallway outside the room, the girl waits anxiously. She sighs and sets her bags down outside the lady's room, checking to see if the door will open. It remains shut, and she walks out. As she closes the door of the nursing home, she glances back, as if she's forgotten something, but the door swings shut behind her.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story was not originally written for Clara but I was wondering which character could meet themselves in canon. She seemed to be a good fit. No, I didn't have a plan for who the wife is. That was written in for the original, nonfanfic portion of the story and I thought it worked.


End file.
